


a hippopotamus for christmas

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Shiro surprises Keith with a wonderful gift for Christmas.





	a hippopotamus for christmas

**Author's Note:**

> written for [dreamteden](http://dreamteden.tumblr.com) for the [sheithsecretsanta exchange](http://sheithsecretsanta.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> the prompt was too adorable to pass up and i just Had To ok

_“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…”_

Keith stirs at the soft murmur, rolling over on the bed. His face scrunches in automatic reaction to the sunlight filtering through the window and he groans, still half-asleep. He pulls the comforter up over his head.

_“Let your heart be light…”_

With a sigh more fond than exasperated, Keith pushes the comforter back down immediately and blinks up at the ceiling, eyes groggy and still sleep-heavy. The overhead fan rotates lazily—the room having gotten too warm in the night—and he watches it for a handful of breaths, listening to the sweet, cheerful voice floating to him from the kitchen.

_“From now on your troubles will be out of sight…”_

Keith smiles, content, and turns his head to look out the bedroom’s one window. A blanket of white covers the ground that he can see from the third story apartment, drips from the bare branches of the trees and the green pine needles of the evergreens in the park across the street. Despite the freezing temperature, he sees couples and families out and about, enjoying a quiet Christmas morning together.

_“Have yourself a merry little Christmas...”_

With a grunt, Keith sits up, sheets and comforter pooling around his waist. He rubs at his eyes, runs a hand through his hair to work out the tangles. He can smell something sweet in the air—pancakes? Waffles, maybe? Oh, man, waffles sound fantastic—and his smile grows wider when the tinge of _burnt_ follows it.

_“Make the yuletide gay…”_

The apartment seems to be in one piece, though, no flames engulfing the hall from what Keith can see from the bedroom, and judging by the easy, content way Shiro is singing—like he has no worries in the world—it must not be too terrible.

_“From now on your troubles will be miles away…”_

Keith takes a moment to stretch, enjoying the lazy atmosphere in their apartment this Christmas morning. They have plans to go over to Lance and Hunk’s this afternoon for lunch and gift giving with the gang, followed by a night of marathoning as many feel-good Christmas movies as they possibly can, but right now is theirs. Turning his head to work the kink out of his neck, Keith catches sight of something on the bed next to him, and he pauses, blinking, before a soft, fond smile spreads on his face.

_“Here we are as in olden days…”_

It’s a hippo—about the size of his chest, plump and light purple, with a tuft of dark purple hair on its head and wearing a cute little black vest—and there’s a big red silk bow around its neck. It’s got a big grin on its face, and Keith tentatively reaches out, taking it gently into his arms. He knows he’s got a stupid grin on his own face, and he lets out a little chuckle as he lets his fingers rub over its face, tracing the smile and feeling the hair.

_“Happy golden days of yore…”_

Keith crushes the hippo to his chest in a burst of affection, burying his hot cheeks in its face. The bow tickles his chin and he puffs out a breath to get it out of his eye, in vain. He takes one end of the ribbon, pulling slowly until the knot comes undone and the bow comes loose.

_“Faithful friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more…”_

As the ribbon falls away, Keith notices a flash of metal against the red, and he pulls the ribbon away until he’s holding a ring in his hand. It’s a simple thing, not thick but not thin, silver and cool to the touch. He turns it over, looks on the inside and sees the inscription: _Shiro loves you, baby._

He blinks, stilling, hippo squished in his arms, when it hits him exactly what he’s holding.

_“Through the years we all will be together if the fates allow…”_

He’s startled out of his blank, awed staring as the man himself finally bustles into the room, breakfast tray in hand. Shiro smiles brightly at him— _Shiro’s always smiling brightly—_ and laughs as he looks down at the floor, where Claude is twisting around his ankles, mewling softly. His eyes sparkle happily as he croons to her.

_“Hang a shining star upon the highest bow,”_ he sings, and Keith’s breath catches as Shiro looks back up at him, eyes full of love. _“And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.”_

Keith is _not_ crying, thank you very much, but his palm still comes away with tears after he wipes at his face. Shiro laughs gently, sitting beside him on the bed, mindful of the breakfast in his hands. “Hey, now, my singing isn’t _that_ bad, is it?”

Keith rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Tears—happy ones—continue to roll down his cheeks. He hugs his new hippo tighter to his chest. “It’s actually your abysmal cooking,” he teases, looking down at the waffles— _yes!_ —that are slightly charred on one side, absolutely drowning in syrup and topped with a hefty amount of whipped cream and a single strawberry. Just how Keith likes it. “I keep telling you to ignore the cat when you’re cooking.”

Shiro makes a pained noise, dramatically gripping his chest and looking over at Claude with wide, sad eyes. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he coos, reaching out a hand and letting Claude butt her head against it, scratching at her mismatched ears. “I would _never_ ignore my little girl.”

Claude mewls again, her blue eyes big as she looks up at Shiro.

Shiro gives her one more scratch before turning back to Keith, who smiles against his hippo as he watches this dork play with their cat. He remembers why tears are on his face when he reaches out to take Shiro’s hand and the ring is there, warming against his palm. His breath hitches again, and a fresh wave of tears start, and Shiro is there, big, warm hands cupping his face and gently brushing them away, soft nonsense falling from his lips as he presses them against Keith’s forehead, soothing him and holding him tight.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry,” Shiro murmurs, and Keith hears how he’s fighting tears of his own, his voice thick. “Shh, don’t cry.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Keith manages, gasps it against Shiro’s collarbone, arms sliding around Shiro’s chest to pull him closer. The hippo gets squished between them but Keith’s feeling _too much too much_ to bother moving it. “ _Yes,_ Kashi, _yes.”_

Shiro chuckles, presses a kiss into Keith’s hair, breath warm when he says, “I didn’t even say anything.”

Keith shakes his head, leaning back to pull Shiro’s face to his, kissing him hard and deep. “You don’t need to,” he says, stealing kisses. “My answer’s ‘yes’ whatever you say.”

Shiro’s eyes sparkle in amusement as he pulls back to look at Keith. “Even if I was gonna say was I wanna get a dog?” He laughs as Keith slaps at his shoulder, tackling him down to the bed, away from the tray with the cooling waffles.

“Don’t be a dick,” Keith admonishes, sitting back. Shiro’s laugh continues ringing through the room, and Keith’s cheeks are starting to hurt from how wide he’s grinning. Claude mewls again, this time more indignant, and Keith watches her jump off the bed, done with her crazy humans.

Keith looks at the ring for a minute, at the inscription, until Shiro’s big hand covers his own and takes it from his gently. He takes Keith’s hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, and then slides the ring onto his finger.

It fits like a glove.

Keith holds up his hand, watching the light glint off the silver. His heart feels ready to burst in his chest and he cups Shiro’s face, leaning their heads together.

“I can’t believe you proposed on Christmas,” Keith murmurs, and smiles when Shiro kisses him.

“ _Technically_ I haven’t proposed yet,” Shiro points out, mouth pulling down into a pout, and Keith sighs, fond and exasperated and so in love he’s not sure how he stands it.

“ _Fine,”_ he groans, but there’s a smile on his face. “Propose, then, if it’s so important to you.”

Shiro laughs again, bright and happy, and takes Keith’s hand, kissing the finger with the ring and then his palm again. He looks into Keith’s eyes, and Keith has to remember how to breathe.

“Keith, baby,” he starts, with another kiss, “my co-pilot, my partner, love of my life—will you marry me?”

Keith pulls Shiro close, hippo still squished between them, Claude back on the foot of the bed, mewling louder, and kisses him. “ _Yes.”_  

Shiro holds him tight, and Keith relaxes in the warmth and love found in Shiro’s arms. The gang is going to be up in arms when they see them for lunch, but Keith figures he wouldn’t want anyone else fussing over them.

“Merry Christmas, Kashi,” Keith says softly, and leans into the kiss Shiro presses to his temple.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> saaaaaaap
> 
> [tumblr](http://duscaenorange.tumblr.com)


End file.
